


name one hero who was happy

by osaoi (orphan_account)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Drabble, Inspired by The Song of Achilles, M/M, Mentions of Blood, Mentions of Death, POV First Person, Small reference from Pride and Prejudice, angst with an ending, you have to squint to see it tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-14 06:33:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29041686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/osaoi
Summary: I have never loved so hard that it cost me my precious life.
Relationships: Miya Osamu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2





	name one hero who was happy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bebopesque](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bebopesque/gifts).



> hello. you may decide which is which here. i wrote this after finishing tsoa. i was in pain, a lot of it.
> 
> this was written in a way it could apply to any men-loving ship, had poll to choose and omigiri won.
> 
> [listen to this song while reading even tho it's longer than the fic length lol](https://open.spotify.com/track/22TntnVO3lQNDR5nsvxGRs?si=VuowBXicTwqfnU3tnvZJzA) thanks my irl for recommending this song to me. i love you kat /p
> 
> this is gifted to han! thank you so much for believing in me:)
> 
> tw mentions of blood, death and violence

  
  
  
  


I dream of a boy in my humble slumber. He is golden as the sun, perhaps more finer than silver necklace royalties have worn, yet here he lies, reduced to ashes, laying lifeless as the memory I shredded into tiny trinkets of the lifetimes I wish to forget. 

I was once a boy of no background. My life was entitled to serve someone superior to me. Everyday I woke up in the slums of my own misery and felt my skin sticky against the ground whenever I knelt in prayer to a mortal who deemed himself a cruel god. I had thought he was the god of war and wrath and every mighty yet brutal form of life. He was not. I was born and raised and taught to never see mere mortals as godheads in this world. They should be nothing but little spawns with pride taller than their healthy competence. 

Was I ashamed of who I was? Never. There was a boy my age who made me feel more welcome than Creation had ever done. He was glistening in diligence, a warrior in the making, a prince in his right, someone I was close to perceive as a half-god. He had told me of his name and it rang like the nymphs’ song in my ears, it felt more like worship to say his name with my dirty mouth. I felt like a sinner preaching God whenever I spoke to him. 

Years flew by and I never let go of the visual imagery of his face, I was taken into a family who was marveled by my history. I was a goddess’ bastard, thrown into the sea, taken care of by the sirens until I was washed up on the shore and they never found me again. When I had my new family, I visited the sea again and found them, and their caresses felt so soft against my skin that I was cleared of all the conundrums I’ve had in my life. 

The prince I’ve come — I did not deserve it. Until now that I am barely a memory, I still don’t think that I deserve the wreath on my head and the gold bangles decorating my arms. Those tunics of pristine white were nothing short of overestimation of my worth. They deemed me a hero, thought of me so highly when I ended a family line, even when I had wept in my chambers after doing so. 

My eyes were restored to fullest of vision when I had seen him again; flourished to become the greatest among those who lived. But his eyes glowed red as the arms of the bonfire, and a furious aura surrounded him to scare me, to make me scramble and stumble and fall before him. I did not. It was he who had tripped over his own foot to catch up to me, with every drop of his might covering my armor with blood. 

These hands I have — I would have stricken a spear at his chest and ended his life, but I remained clinging onto the last bit of chivalry I had, holding him close to me, with my armored arms around him. He pierced me, and it hurt so much but it was far more painful to see that the man I had loved as a boy was now a monster waiting to bait his prey closer to its death. I was not his prey, nor was he to me, and I chose to save him even if I had been the one dying. 

_ You are my only love, the only one who can breathe life into my soul _ , he said,  _ but I wish to turn the tides and suck all of what’s left in you. I wish to end your bloodlines as you have ended one of my friends’ roots. _

But I cried as I spat more blood, praying to the gods to spare me of my shortcomings’ revenge.  _ I love you, most ardently, and I have never wished for anything but you to come home to me. I prayed to gods and offered them what I have, just so I could have you. This is how they repay me. But if it is their will, I shall not object— _

He was shocked. It was as if an electric current of memories had struck him from behind, and as I fell into the grass, his body fell on top of mine, hugging my own, deep in tears.  _ I-I remember you now. No, you will not forgive me, I do not deserve you. Your kindness was too soft to split my pride in half. I ask you to hurt me as I have hurt you, let me die the way I had wanted you to. _

He sat up and hugged my body close to his as if I had died. I did not stab him as he requested, but he died from the arrow that tore his heart. I watched him fall and bury me inside of him, as if he were protecting me. However, I was too late to come to my senses. 

I am awake and he is not, for he burned. The arrows pierced him and awakened a fire that his heart cradled. I am nothing now that I have seen what doom my life is prophesied to end with, and as another arrow cuts the thick tension in the air, so does my sharp, last breath as I take my final bow, burning into my own ashes, mixing with his. 

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> let's all cry together


End file.
